


State Visit

by samariumwriting



Series: Trans Claude AU [11]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Post-Canon, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Spoilers, Trans Claude von Riegan, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 23:58:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20750924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samariumwriting/pseuds/samariumwriting
Summary: The newly crowned King of Almyra contacts Lorenz with a message, requesting a summit in Fódlan to discuss the future of their two nations. Lorenz accepts, but finds that the new King is more of a mystery than he expected.





	State Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! :) just a note before you get into this: tiny moments/aspects of other fics in this series are referenced within (mostly the previous fic) but this stands alone. Also, spoilers for the ending of Golden Deer and Claude's ending in particular, so if you don't wanna know, stay away!

Normally, as the leader of the now United Fódlan, Byleth took most of the correspondence from foreign rulers and the like. But, as one of the primary administrators of the former Alliance territories, Lorenz tended to get a lot of the letters and declarations from Almyra. This would be discussed at roundtable events just as this kind of thing had been before, and the decisions would go back to Byleth or Lorenz would write the reply himself.

It was a good system, and it worked; Byleth had a lot to do, with the three territories to govern and the former Kingdom and Empire in a much worse state than the Alliance and requiring a lot more attention. Privately, Lorenz was fairly sure that Byleth was uncomfortable with the reality that they could probably wield absolute power if they wanted to, and as such they gave a lot of that power to the people they could trust. He wasn’t about to object, because it meant Lorenz could influence the way they interacted with their eastern neighbours.

Claude would have wanted him to be kind and welcoming. Lorenz didn’t know exactly where Claude was, or what he was doing, or why he’d even left in the first place. He’d talked about a duty, and being of more use elsewhere, and trusting people to carry on what he’d started. And then he disappeared without a formal goodbye. Lorenz was still annoyed, even these two years after he’d vanished. Two years reaping the fruit from the seeds Claude had sown.

Needless to say, Lorenz felt their relations with Almyra were fairly good. They’d negotiated some basic treaties, though nothing he felt would stand the test of time, and there was yet to be any kind of official friendly contact between the nations (unless you counted General Holst’s frequent meetings with General Nader of Almyra, and Lorenz did not count those because they were glorified drinking competitions). It was taking a while, but they’d made plenty of steps in the right direction. If Claude had been around they might have made plenty more, but for now Lorenz felt that his friend would be proud at what had been achieved.

Given the lack of official, in person contact, Lorenz was decidedly surprised at the declaration that greeted him one sunny afternoon. The letter, written on thick, rich parchment, was delivered by a well-dressed Almyran boy, who greeted Lorenz with a deep bow and heavily accented Fódlan. “A formal declaration from the King, my lord,” he said. Lorenz took it, and the boy waited expectantly, watching him.

He unfolded the letter after breaking the seal, which he recognised as the green Almyran royal emblem. ‘For whomever this letter may reach,’ the letter started, and it was written in loopy, perhaps overly complicated calligraphy. ‘Read and record this declaration of the King of Almyra and all Almyrans. Following the passing of the late King Oswald the Generous, Undisputed Ruler of One Score and One Dozen Summers, his son and heir, King Chavdar the Unfailing, Visionary of the Hopes of Almyra, intends to conduct a diplomatic visit to United Fódlan in the near future. He requests that such a meeting be arranged as soon as feasibly possible, and that the response to this declaration is hasty.’

The bottom of the paper was taken up by an elaborate signature. Compared to the straightforward ways of Nader, this was...a change, to say the very least. Lorenz read over it again. The request was simple, but phrased in such an elaborate way. He supposed that it must just be the custom of the Almyran nobility to write in a way that was so floral, but the previous king had been far more simple in his correspondence.

Times changed, Lorenz supposed. He hadn’t realised that the late king had been particularly old, though there wasn’t really all that much of an inclination either way from the small amount of correspondence they had shared. Claude used to deal with most of it (Lorenz occasionally wondered if Claude thought he had been subtle about his Almyran heritage. The specifics were shady, but it was clear by the end of the war that Claude had spent at least part of his childhood there), but in the years since he left, Lorenz done the bulk of the work. The late king had been formal but straightforward. He didn’t recall having seen the title Oswald the Generous more than a handful of times.

The boy in front of him was still watching him. “Are you anticipating an immediate reply?” Lorenz asked, and the boy blinked. “Do you want an answer now?” he asked, before the boy could even clarify that he didn’t understand. He received a nod in response. “I see.” He looked down at the letter and scanned it again. How soon could they feasibly host a foreign king and his entourage?

“His Majesty said he doesn’t need a large reception,” the boy said. This was a practised line, less stilted than before. “Just the major leaders of Fódlan for discussions.”

“I understand,” he said, pulling out the large planning calendar. There was little planned in the next few months, just a conference every month. The King would want Byleth at the meeting, undoubtedly, and they were in the former Kingdom for most of the Horsebow Moon, so they’d have to do it either before or after that. “I have two questions,” he said. The boy nodded. “How long does it take for you to get this message back?”

“A little less than a week, my lord.”

“And how long from receiving the message would the King need to get to the centre of United Fódlan?”

“No more than two weeks,” he replied. “His Majesty will fly to Fódlan.” Lorenz nodded and looked back down at the calendar. If the king of Almyra really could be there within three weeks, there was just enough time to conduct a week-long official visit before Byleth had to leave for the former Kingdom.

“I will compose a response now,” Lorenz said. Officially, Byleth was meant to make the important decisions, but they’d told him long ago that as long as they were free to do something, they’d probably do it, and they trusted his judgement. It made him feel rather important to be able to organise something like this, too. It wasn’t that Byleth made him feel powerless, not in the slightest, but it was good to feel needed for something important and time-sensitive like this.

When the boy had left, letter in hand, Lorenz began composing the numerous letters necessary for summoning a large conference. The date was set for just under four weeks from that day, and he was sure that some of the lords would be unhappy with the short notice, but this kind of event was immeasurably important. This was an unprecedented opportunity to take a huge step in creating the Fódlan Claude had dreamed of, and he couldn’t pass it up.

Lorenz just hoped that, one day, Claude would return to them and see the world they were building.

-

In the weeks before the official visit, Lorenz often found himself wondering what the Almyran king was like. The letter told him very little, and before then he hadn’t received any correspondence from the man. In fact, a prince had never been mentioned in the letters from the late king at all.

If they were going to do any kind of friendly negotiation, it was practically vital that he knew something. He sent a letter requesting information from Holst and Marianne, who were closest to the border and most likely to have more contact from Almyrans who might know a little more about this King Chavdar.

The other thing he did almost immediately was travel to Derdriu. When the border was half opened and trade agreements started forming, Derdriu was one of the first places to get any significant amount of traffic, so if there was anywhere he could ask someone about the latest goings on in Almyra it was there.

However, as Lorenz quickly found out, few Almyrans knew much about this elusive new King. He was very, very recently crowned; so recently that most of the people currently in Fódlan were hearing the news about the previous king’s passing for the first time when he informed them that there was a new one at all.

The other strange thing was some of the conversations he had with Almyrans who knew much about the royal family. There was a trader or two who’d been prominent in the capital of Almyra for years and had those kinds of connections, but none of them could tell him about a King or even much about a Prince.

“I thought King Oswald didn’t even have an heir,” one of them told him. “At least, I didn’t think he had one outside of his wife. They had a daughter, I used to see the portrait up in the palace hallway when I was just starting out, but then they covered it with a black cloth and took it down. I thought she’d died, though nothing was ever said.”

“Old Oswald was private about his family,” another told Lorenz. “It was a big scandal years and years ago when he had a...daughter, I think? I don’t remember, and I don’t even remember what the scandal was about. It can’t have been anything special. Maybe he married someone people didn’t like.”

It took him ages to find someone who even had recollection of there being a prince at all. “He’s a pretty young man, very pale.” The person who had even half of an answer to his question was the daughter of a ship captain. “I saw him across a courtyard with an older woman from Fódlan I didn’t recognise.”

From the information he’d gathered...well, no one knew anything about what the new King was like, so that wasn’t helpful for planning negotiations at all. If the royal family were private about their affairs, then it was unlikely he’d be able to learn much at all before the meeting. Perhaps if he came back in the week before, someone who’d actually seen the man would be around.

The other issue was the curious matter of the missing princess. In the past, Lorenz would have prescribed that to poor memory of commonfolk when speaking of matters they didn’t have much business with, or perhaps the difficulty of telling Almyran men and women apart. But neither of those things were remotely true. Perhaps the princess had died, and the King was her younger brother, or perhaps…

For some reason, the accounts described to him reminded him of his first few encounters with Claude. The introduction of the granddaughter of Duke Riegan, everyone talking about this young girl, and Claude being...anything but. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions a little too quickly, but if it was in any way a similar situation then Lorenz knew he couldn’t afford to get it wrong.

The letter he got back from Marianne told him very little - she said that in the only correspondence she’d shared with Almyrans since the late King’s death, the new one had barely been mentioned. In terms of trade notices, she’d only received a declaration much like the one Lorenz had answered about the imminent visit.

General Holst’s reply, however, was a little more interesting. Nader had left the border region in the last few weeks, presumably in response either to the late king’s death or his ailing health, and he hadn’t returned. He had also, at least not in Holst’s memory, ever mentioned a prince, or even an heir at all. An elusive man indeed.

The confirmation of attendance to reply to Lorenz’s invitation told him very little more. The same flowery language, slightly less formal, slightly less demanding. It informed him of when the King would arrive, how many people would be travelling with him. It also specified that he wanted to meet the generals of the successful Leicester Alliance army from a few years ago, but didn’t say why.

Grudgingly, Lorenz sent out letters to Raphael, Ignatz, and Leonie to ask them to be present. They all met up occasionally, but rarely as a whole group. It felt wrong to get together without Claude there, but this was practically the best tribute they could give to Claude; cementing future relationships with the land Lorenz was sure he’d grown up in.

As the day approached, Lorenz took the chance to go back to Derdriu to try and find some Almyrans who knew anything about what the new King was like. As before, however, it was incredibly difficult to find even a single person who’d been anywhere near him.

“I was at the coronation,” one of them said, “but it was a public ceremony. I barely even got a glimpse of him. I could sketch out an image of the ceremonial robes he was wearing, but I don’t think that was what you were asking?” The woman in question looked up at him to confirm, and Lorenz just nodded and thanked her for her information.

Another merchant had slightly more useful information. “I met the late King’s wife two weeks ago,” he said. “A formidable woman, though very unusual in Almyra. I don’t think she’s the King’s mother, though. She’s from Fódlan, and I don’t think a child like that would be allowed to take the throne.”

Lorenz was reminded of one of Claude’s rare references to his upbringing: he had been attacked, once or twice, and while he had distinctly avoided talking about the specific circumstances, Lorenz now got the feeling that a similar prejudice may have been present. Instead of challenging the merchant’s views, however, he pressed further. “Did the King have multiple wives?” he asked.

The merchant frowned. “No, just the Queen,” he said. “I remember now, he only ever had a daughter with her. So the new King would be someone else’s child. You see, sir, the King in Almyra can name anyone he sees as worthy as his heir, but usually he’ll choose his child. Haven’t heard anything about the princess in years though.”

“Thank you,” he said. He still couldn’t find anyone who could tell him anything concrete about what the King was like, what his priorities were, anything really. For a head of state he really was rather mysterious. It was times like this when Lorenz wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to such an early meeting. If he’d had more time he could have found more out, and perhaps the talks would go better because of it.

The deed had been done now, mistake or not. The whole business just had Lorenz feeling exceedingly confused. There was something going on here that he just didn’t have enough information to figure out. With a few more weeks, a few more moons, he could have more pieces of the puzzle and work it all out. The phantom princess, the family scandal, the elusive king...it was just on the edge of his understanding but he couldn’t figure it out. The Almyran King was arriving in the next few days; it was too late to uncover the truth.

-

Everyone assembled at the edge of the town around Garreg Mach in the early afternoon, waiting for the King to arrive. All the delegates from Fódlan had arrived the night before, with a handful who made their way up the final mountainous stretch in the morning. A messenger had flown ahead on a faster wyvern with an approximate time of arrival, and now they were all waiting.

King Chavdar had specified that there was no need for a rich reception, and that the company was what he was after, but there were a few things they’d managed to pull together. Fine caterers, banners for the monastery that weren’t worn with age, staff members from surrounding settlements. Everyone was dressed in fine clothes, and Lorenz had tried to get his former classmates to rest well in preparation for what could be a very, very long day.

...that said, they hadn’t been together, the seven of them, for months, and they’d spent quite a while talking the night before. Lorenz would admit to being slightly tired, but he was strong enough to power through.

They watched the skies for a few minutes before there was any sign of the approaching delegation. Then, Cyril spotted dark shapes in the distance, getting closer all the while. A whole crowd of wyverns, upwards of thirty, flew in the skies above.

Lorenz would admit that his heart perhaps leapt when he saw a familiar looking white wyvern. But Claude couldn’t be in the Almyran delegation - he would have written! He hadn’t sent a single word of his location since he left Fódlan. 

But then the wyvern party got closer, and closer, and Lorenz would have to admit that the person on its back looked rather similar to his wayward friend. And as they descended, it became undeniable. That was Claude on the back of that wyvern.

He realised at about the same point as everyone else, and that was when the shouting and cheering began. Lorenz caught sight of a huge smile on Claude’s face, and when he looked over at Byleth, the smile was mirrored on their own.

Claude dismounted his wyvern with a grin, and held the reins in one hand while using the other to sweep into a deep bow. “Afternoon, everyone,” he said, his voice light. “What’s the big occasion? Surely you’re not all here for me.”

Lorenz fixed him with a look. “Are you here with the Almyran King?” he asked.

Claude’s grin widened. “In a way,” he said. As if for effect, he glanced towards the mountains the wyverns had just crossed. There was another figure atop another wyvern approaching. “I am of course here to announce that the King of Almyra and all Almyrans, Chavdar the Unfailing, Visionary of the Hopes of Almyra,” the titles rattled easily off his tongue as if he’d spoken them a hundred times before. He had some explaining to do. “Is me.”

Silence fell. Lorenz stared at him, and though he wasn’t facing any of the assembled group of Fódlans, he got the feeling everyone else was staring as well. “I beg your pardon?”

Claude doubled over with laughter. “Oh, your faces!” he said, and Lorenz knew Claude’s tone well enough to know that there were tears of mirth in his eyes. After a moment, he straightened up again. “I’m King Chavdar. The titles were a flourish, I don’t have any just yet.”

“You mean to tell us that all this time you went on about not being noble, you were actually a prince?” Leonie asked, her voice rising in disbelief.

“You sure never acted like a prince,” Hilda said.

Claude looked around at them all. “No, I suppose I didn’t,” he said, following his words with a smile and a shrug. A very normal Claude action for a very not normal Claude situation.

Though, Lorenz supposed it wasn’t all that irregular for Claude to trick everyone. “I cannot believe you,” he said, making sure Claude could hear both his displeasure and amusement. “All this time, you were royalty, and this meeting is just another one of your schemes. Am I correct?”

“Of course!” Claude said. Nearly unnoticed, completely without fanfare, the lone wyvern rider landed. Everyone was still watching Claude in disbelief. “Oh, come on, everyone. You know I can’t resist playing into the theatrics.”

With that, he came to stand beside them all, and started an idle conversation about the flying conditions from Almyra to Garreg Mach. It was so startling familiar and entirely unfamiliar all at the same time. Lorenz would admit that he was a little peeved off that they’d all been tricked, but the smile on Claude’s face, the laughter that rang around the monastery dining hall that evening...no, actually, he didn’t mind in the slightest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) if you enjoyed, I'd really like to emphasise how meaningful positive feedback is for me writing this series. But also I got a nasty hate comment on the previous fic so I wrote this super fast out of Pure Spite so that works too. If you have any ideas for future trans Claude fics (I have four prompts in the bag rn), please say hi here or on twitter @samariumwriting.


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